


Jack Doesn't Live Here Anymore

by RaeC



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-12-26
Updated: 2000-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeC/pseuds/RaeC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Goodbyes should never be written in a letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jack Doesn't Live Here Anymore

December 24th, 2010

Dear Sam,

Took a while to write this letter. I've rewritten it a dozen times or more before I just gave up trying to make sense of everything. Too much to tell you and not enough time or space.

I guess I should just start with Merry Christmas. I expect you to be showing up here in a few hours, happy, relaxed, ready for our yearly routine of you scolding me for not showing up for Christmas dinner and me coming up with yet another lame excuse for not making it. Your arms full with Christmas turkey and stories just waiting to tumble forth. Glad that the rush of the holidays is over and the kids finally settled.

I'm happy for you, Sam, really very happy. You've got a good life, a great husband, two great kids, but this year I really do have somewhere else to be.

You've been a good friend to me over the past ten years. Watched my back, even tried to fix me up on a couple of dates. We've had some times together haven't we?

I guess what I'm trying to say is good bye and that I owe you this; owe you an explanation for what I'm about to do. I've already sent the General my resignation via email. No, I haven't lost my mind. No, this isn't sudden. It's something I've been thinking about for a while. Something I wanted to do for years.

We've done it, Sam...saved the universe. Time to give it up and leave all the exploring to those young faces we see crawling all over the SGC now. You have your work, your family, the military. Me? All I have is my work and most of that is classified. I come home every night to this house that gets colder every day. I could go back to Abydos, but that not what I want.

Someone stopped by the house today and made me realize that I want more. I deserve more. You'd think after ten years that wouldn't be so hard to say, would you? But it is. Terrifying in fact. And I'm about to embark on the greatest journey of my life. Even bigger than the Stargate. Bigger than Abydos.

I'm going to go find Jack. Something I should I have done years ago. I wish I'd listened to you when you said that something was wrong with the way he resigned. Sometimes I can be so blind.

I guess I should tell you what happened today...the reason I finally made the decision to leave. The day started out pretty simple, typical stand down routine; cleaning, laundry, reading. Then I remembered it was Christmas. I can almost forget if I try hard enough. Ignore the songs on the radio, and change the channel when 'It's a Wonderful Life' plays for the hundredth time. Yet another year with nothing to show for my life.

All this *stuff* and the house still feels empty. It's not a home and hasn't been for a while. The spirit is missing. It's so empty you can sometimes feel things before they happen. I don't know, could just be me hallucinating or the ghost of what could have been, but something told me to grab my jacket and run. Run fast.

It's the feeling you get when you know something momentous is about to happen. You don't know if it's going to be good or bad, but it still scares you. It's the same kind of feeling you get when you go through the Gate knowing what's on the other side, but still knowing anything could happen. Or a roller coaster climbing to the top praying that you'd get there soon so the bad part will be over.

My first clue should have been the photo. I don't know how it happened; it just...fell. Glass was everywhere and the frame shattered beyond repair. The one picture I had of Jack and me before SG1, before the program really took off, and it crashed to the floor.

It was the beginning of everything, of our friendship, my career, Abydos. Made me laugh every time I looked at it, the stuffed shirt that was Jack O'Neill actually cracking a smile and not breaking. I wish you could have been there Sam. We were such different people then. I never did tell you the full story behind that picture, did I?

And it didn't stop there. The mail arrived and what's waiting for me, my Christmas card to Jack. He sent it back 'again'. I know, I know, but I keep thinking this will be the year that it won't come back.

No, that's not right, I don't think at all; I just send the card and hope. If I stop to think, the pain starts...what is he doing, is he happy, why doesn't he write or call.

It's been ten years, Sam. Ten years, two months and nineteen days. Not that I'm counting.

That's a laugh isn't it? You want to make sure they're still alive, so you torture yourself a little bit more, a little bit longer, just a little bit harder. All so you know that they still exist. Waiting patiently to see if this is the day. 'Return to sender, Addressee unknown' in that oh so familiar scrawl. And it always manages to arrive before Christmas Eve. Guess now you know why I never came to Christmas dinner.

Just as I'm about to rip the card up and spend yet another holiday buried in my work, someone knocks on my door looking for Jack. You'd think I'd be suspicious, but I wasn't. I just thought it was odd or maybe that some relative of Jack's died and was now trying to locate him. But no, he really was looking for Jack...thought he still lived here. How's that for ironic?

That sounds so final, doesn't it? Jack. Doesn't. Live. Here. Anymore. Five little words that speak so many things, have so many meanings. And I hadn't listened to any of them.

I was ready to shut the door when something in his voice caught me. Disappointment? Yearning? I'm not too sure what it was, but I stopped, just had to know. Who was this man? So I asked.

His name was Tom Reilly, an old friend of Jack's from high school. I think you would have liked him, Sam. He had one of those faces you just instantly want to trust. There was nothing memorable about his appearance; it was simply the way he carried himself. He knew what he was doing, where he was going, and how long it was going to take to get him there. He reminded me of Jack.

We stood there looking at each other for a few minutes when Tom spits out with this perfectly straight face....'Well are you going to invite me in or are we both going to freeze our asses off.' God, I wonder how that town survived with the two of them.

To make a long story short, we spent the afternoon talking about Jack. Some of the stories he told, Sam...I haven't laughed so hard in years. Do you remember the time the virtual Kawalsky claimed to still be able to kick Jack's butt in a game of stick ball? Well that's not the only sport Kawalsky could beat Jack at. Jack, Tom, and Kawalsky used to play hockey together. He loved the sport so much as a teenager that they'd play at all hours and in all kinds of weather, breaking a few of the neighbor's windows in the process.

I never thought of Jack as a teenager, only as the tough, stone cold military soldier when we first met, to the person I came to really care about over the years. Here was this whole other 'person' I knew nothing about, someone who made mistakes and played pranks. I wanted it all, the good times, the bad. And Tom told me everything. Everything up to and including the 'why'.

Why he was there.

I had something Tom wanted too, memories of Jack as he was fourteen years ago. I couldn't tell him much, but I told him what I could. I think he was pleased that Jack had come to grips with his son's death, that Jack hadn't buried himself in his work, and hadn't lost his love of hockey or astronomy. It felt good to let go and share all of these things I'd held inside with someone who understood.

I know you would have understood too, Sam, don't get me wrong, but this was different. Not two of Jack's former best friends looking to capture a bit of the past, but a wake. I didn't know it at the time, but that's what it was, a wake for Jack.

Tom had come looking for *me*, trying to find his own explanations I guess. I had my Christmas cards, I'm not sure what he had. It's his way of letting go, getting closure. I don't know if Tom found what he was looking for, but I know I have to go find my own answers.

All I know, Sam, is that I love Jack. I have for a very long time. Fourteen years in love with another man. It's still scary to even think those words. I should have paid more attention. Should have done 'something' sooner. That's why it's so important for me to leave, now. Why I *need* to do this.

He was here last night, Jack that is. He walked around the house touching things, as if he was trying to re-connect this place with himself. The pictures on the mantle? He'd memorized them all, names, dates, places. Why would he do that? Why was he here? What was 'he' looking for? Looking for closure of his own? Why send back the card if he was only going to show up himself?

I didn't know whether to hug him or hit him, Sam. Ten years! And he just shows up out of the blue? I was angry, enough to spend the first hour arguing with him over his resignation. Why he left the SGC. Why he didn't write.

Do you know why Jack left? Because of me. Wanted to give me the chance to have the career I'd always dreamed of. That wouldn't happen if it ever came out that I was gay. I don't care. I would have quit the Stargate program in a heartbeat if it meant that I could keep Jack.

Didn't he know that? Can I just say Jack was stupid? Yeah, this is a first for me in many ways, but Sam, I wouldn't trade it for the world. It won't be easy, I know that. Nothing worth having ever is. Nothing is worth having if you can't share it with someone. I didn't want to be alone anymore.

The first thing I'm going to do when I find him *is* punch him. He's left everything up to me, yet again. I've finally figured out what that picture meant. It was his way of saying he wanted something more, another new beginning.

We are so stupid. The both of us. I have to find Jack and settle whatever this is between us.

I've left you the picture of Abydos with this letter. You'll have to get a new frame for it, sorry. I look at this picture now and I can see what the world must have seen, the start of something unique. Two people who were a part of each other even from the beginning.

I need to be near him more than I can bear to lose him. Our friendship was and is the most important thing in my life. He still doesn't get it. He thinks that he is still protecting me from myself. That I'll wake up tomorrow, change my mind and realize I've made a mistake. I haven't Sam. I knew what I wanted ten years ago, and it's the same today. I want to be with Jack...as a lover, as a friend, I don't care. The rest doesn't matter; we'll work it out.

We spent the evening doing things I won't go into because I don't want to embarrass you, but lets just say I learned who Jack was all over again. It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. I fell asleep to the steady, comforting sound of his heartbeat under my ear.

Sometime during the night he left. God, he's still thinking stupid.

I vaguely remember a softly whispered 'Merry Christmas, Daniel' and a light kiss on my cheek. I tried to find him. Hoped he was just in the kitchen or the bathroom, at the store. I looked around the place; looked for the laughter that had been there just hours before. The love. All the things I'd been searching for, wanted. But this place is still empty, Sam. I'd been right when I told Tom that Jack doesn't live here anymore.

It's time, Sam. I know you'll find this letter tomorrow. You come every year, just as I beg off every year. I just wanted to let you know...it was never you. It was all those happy, smiling faces. I just couldn't 'celebrate' Christmas anymore. There was nothing for me to celebrate.

I've got my bags packed and tossed the stuff that means the most to me in my car. Do what you want with the rest. I don't know exactly how to get where I'm going, but I've got until the New Year. And then I'll have the rest of my life.

Sell the house. Save it for your kids. Whatever you want. The deed's right there. I know you'll understand, Sam. You always have.

It's just that Jack doesn't live here anymore and neither can I.

Merry Christmas, I'll write.

Always,

Daniel


	2. When Thunder Spoke

Journal Entry: December 25th, 2010

Every mile brings me closer to the unknown. The whine of the engine nearly hypnotizing at times. Had to crack the window and let in the winter chill to keep from falling asleep. Nothing but highway and the occasional dead shrub and forests. Even the radio is against me. It's just mile after mile of the same. Nothing to take my mind off of the journey ahead. Nothing to do but think.

I have so many unanswered questions. My personal favorite: What am I doing? I can't believe I'm actually doing this; after so many years, I just resign, pack my bags and leave. What must Sam be thinking? That I'm crazy? Probably.

This whole thing *is* crazy. Jack, me, the universe, we all went nuts years ago. Let ourselves be blinded, didn't trust, let the world around us dictate what we should do and how we should act. What was I thinking?

God, I feel like the first time I went through the Gate. There's a terror of what I'll find and what I won't all rolled together with a strange sort excitement. The thrill of discovery and fear of rejection all sit heavily in my stomach with hope the only thing holding me together.

I've become too complacent over the years, relying on all of the SGC's wonderful technical toys to tell me what's waiting on the other side. What I wouldn't give for some sort of scrying bowl. Will I even be welcome?

Sometimes I can't fight the panic and the steering wheel just shakes in my hands. Pulling over doesn't help, the wind chill is too low to get out and walk around, and I'm just too exhausted not to fall asleep. I only made it as far as Albuquerque before I just had to stop. Maybe tomorrow I can get across the border. Lunch in Mexico sounds nice. I wonder if it will be as cold as it is here?

The drive's not so bad I guess. I do need the time to get my head on straight, prepare myself for what I might find. It has been ten years after all. What if he's remarried? Oh god, why didn't I think to ask that last night? No, that's not the Jack I knew; he wouldn't have deserted his family on Christmas. But then...why did he leave?

Why did he come back?

I can't believe he was here last night. It's almost as if everything was a dream and now I'm chasing after phantoms. It was as if the last ten years faded to nothing, all the old feelings were still there. Everything. Only this time, I could actually reach out and touch, could feel him under my hands, explore the changes over the years.

Strange the way memory works, isn't it? It's vague and uncertain until you have the real thing standing in front of you and all you can do is notice every little change. How his hair has even more grey. The lines around his eyes, so striking from years of squinting in the bright light of all the planets we've visited, now smoothing into marks of age. The intensity of his gaze just as deep as ever. The calluses on his hands, hard and thick from years of holding a gun, softened, changed in a way I didn't understand yet.

Still, it was his eyes I noticed the most. No matter what he said to me, it was his eyes I watched. Listened to the sadness that lay deep within. Felt the reverence and desperation in his hands as he touched me, as if this first time was to be the last. Tasted the fear and anger as he ground his mouth against mine, the need to mold ourselves as close as humanly possible, fierce. Scented his desire; heat and musk twined in a heady combination that would put any Goa'uld mixture to shame.

I listened to it all, felt every emotion as it flowed from his body to mine. Drowned myself in Jack, fell into a world where nothing and no one but Jack lived. It was a bubble where the outside world didn't exist for a single night.

And now, I have to ask myself that question which repeats endless over and over again. What am I doing?

What am I searching for...the future or the past?

~~~

Journal Entry: December 26th, 2010

Well, I made it to Mexico in one piece. Maybe I should have bought a plane ticket. There's *too* much time to think on the road. Especially when you don't have anyone to talk to but yourself. The stops for gas and food don't seem long enough and I'm still alone, surrounded by strangers. The conversation stays in the safe areas...how cold the weather is. What the wind chill is going to be tonight. How bad the meat loaf is. The cost of gas these days.

How much further is this town?

I must have slept all of four hours last night. If I wasn't worrying about what Jack's going to say when I see him, I was reliving Christmas Eve over again. Fantasy and reality. The daydream and the nightmare. What I wouldn't give for a good cup of coffee right now. Or maybe just a good night's sleep. To close my eyes and forget the questions, the insecurities and just dream.

Dream that time had rewound itself and I'm back in Jack's arms. And I never have to leave. God, that was beautiful. Extraordinary, from the first moment that he silenced our argument with his finger on my mouth. I couldn't help myself. I just naturally licked my lips and my taste buds exploded in ecstasy. As the rough pad of his finger slid along my tongue, his "Don't Daniel" stilled in mid-sentence. The thrill of discovery and power at that moment...Wow.

He wanted me. It was in every line of his body. One second we were arguing and the next he caressed my cheek and asked me if I really knew what I was doing. Of course I didn't! But I didn't care either. All I wanted was for him to keep touching me. Wanted to touch him. Wanted all of him.

I *wanted* Jack.

He tried to scare me off. My entire body shook with desire, and he thought one kiss was going to make me run away? It only made me want more. I'd been waiting for that kiss my entire life.

Jack put everything he had into that kiss. His entire body was pressed against me, thighs, hips, and chests. I felt him hardening against me, his desire plain and intended to be. He held nothing back. His mouth taking, taking, taking and giving; trying to say, I have to have you, I need you, I want you, take *me* all in one breath. And just when I was about to pass out, he pulled away, panting, hard, and just as needy as ever and he thought that was enough? Enough to scare me away?

He tried words next. I still wouldn't listen. I *did* want him. I wouldn't regret it in the morning. I don't have kids now. He would never be too old for me. We would always have things that we didn't agree on. Just more walls to hide behind. To keep us from what was important - Us.

What mattered was that we *tried*.

And isn't that what I'm doing now? Trying again? Taking a huge leap of faith based on one night that may have been just that...one night? Thinking I know what he feels? What if it's all in my mind? What if I wanted him to be real so badly, that I *did* dream the whole thing? Am I ready to face that possibility? Can I?

I have to try.

~~~

Journal Entry: December 27th, 2010

I pulled up outside a little town outside Culaitan sometime before eight that evening. This is where Jack lives. I hope. I didn't think it would be hard to find him. After a long day on the road, all I wanted was to find him, and a hot bath. A hot bath would be nice. I stumbled across an open cantina. Jack is known around here, that's for sure. But he's not here. He doesn't live in town and the people weren't too inclined to tell me either. I'm going to have to drive on to Culaitan and find some place to stay for the night. I'll have to come back tomorrow.

I don't want to. I want all these questions to end now. To see Jack, now.

Ten years is an awfully long time to wait for anything, let alone a person. I realized that on my long drive. I'd been waiting for Jack to come home. Some strange hope that I never acknowledged. I was afraid. No, terrified. Like right now.

And these people won't tell me where Jack is. Frustration and terror, that's got to be an interesting combination. Dr. Jekyll, meet Mr. Hyde. Jack always did say that I could focus on something just a little too intensely.

~~~

Journal Entry: December 28th, 2010

Nothing new to report today. Went back to the cantina. Jack wasn't there. The hotel room in Culaitan is sparse but it fits my needs. I'm starting to see why Jack moved here instead of Minnesota. The people are friendly, the weather pretty moderate, and it's like living in the past.

I hope Jack shows up soon.

~~~

Journal Entry: December 29th, 2010

Again, no Jack. Where could he be? As Jack would say, 'The natives are restless.' Their faces close up as soon as they see me. And the drive back and forth between Culaitan and the town is getting longer every day. Sometimes it feels like I'll never get there and when I go back to my hotel room, it's as if I've been digging for days.

I don't do anything but sit on the porch of the cantina and watch the streets. I know Jack is around here somewhere. I've just got to be patient. Wait.

~~~

Journal Entry: December 30th, 2010

Well, tomorrow's New Year's Eve. The town has finally decided to ignore me altogether. They're preparing for a feast. If I wasn't so busy looking for Jack, I actually could have enjoyed watching them set things up. Watching as the town was transformed from harsh sun-baked clay into a bright, festive atmosphere. As it was, I was annoyed. Everywhere I turned there were places Jack could hide. Walk past and I'd never see him.

Today I even walked the streets I watched so carefully. I couldn't afford the chance that I might miss him. Walked and searched, searched and walked. But still no Jack.

Oh gods, I hope I didn't miss him. My money is running low. My hotel room isn't that spectacular, but it is expensive. This area is always over-run with tourists. I just wish I could find a place to stay here.

Where is Jack?

~~~

Journal Entry: New Years Eve, 2010

The cantina owner still hasn't seen Jack. I check every day and the answer is always the same, a shake of his head as I enter to buy breakfast. The atmosphere is happy, joyful outside, but I can't seem to get into the spirit. One of the more courageous camarera tried to pull me out into the fiesta, but I just didn't feel like it.

I think I'll head back to Colorado tomorrow. I'm not getting anywhere with -------------------

~~~

January 20th, 2152

"Linda!"

"Yes?"

"Where's the rest of it?"

"The rest of what?"

Martin Siler thrust the volume into his assistant's hands. "This journal. Isn't there more? This was all you found?"

"Well, I'm sorry Professor. I brought you everything the Mexican Authorities had of Americans living in Mexico during the 21st Century. What's wrong?"

"It's unfinished. That's what's wrong." The professor sounded petulant, like a small child who didn't get his own way. Linda couldn't help but smile. He had this cute little dimple that appeared on his chin when he did.

"Well, maybe I can call them up and ask if there were any others? What in particular are you looking for?" Linda started scanning the first page of the small book. It looked rather ordinary until she hit the word, Gate, capitalized. She looked up. "One of the members of the SGC? Wow!"

"Yes. 'Wow'." Martin leafed to the last page. "This is where it ends."

"A personal journal?" Linda was awed. Not too many artifacts survived after the SGC was shut down, let alone personal thoughts. "This is priceless."

"And it will never leave this room."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not about the SGC, Ms. Hampton. It's a love story. An unfinished one at that." Martin looked wistful. "I wish I knew how it ended."

Linda handed the book back and as she did, it fell. Martin gasped and scrambled to the floor to rescue it.

"Oh Martin! I'm sorry!" Linda was beside herself. She hadn't meant to drop it. The Professor would never forgive her if the book were ruined.

Several pages lay on the floor, having come loose when the binding hit the floor, along with an envelope and a picture. A picture of two men...two very happy men...sitting on the deck of a boat. Beautiful, Stargate-blue water rippling outward from the center. And a date on the back, January 1st, 2011.

"I guess they did find happiness after all." Martin looked confused for a minute. "This is a letter to Samantha Carter. How did this get here?"

"One of them has a black eye." Grinning, Linda leaned over his shoulder and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Who are they?"

"Colonel Jack O'Neill and Dr. Daniel Jackson." Martin smiled and patted Linda's hand. "My great-grandmother's team-mates. She would have been happy to know that they found each other after all. Come on, Linda. Lets get some tea and I'll tell you the whole story."

Martin rose from the floor, the letter to his mother, the picture, and the book held reverently in his hands. "It all started one Christmas Eve..."

Linda followed, listening avidly. She'd heard this story a dozen times before, but never with this much passion. Perhaps there was hope after all.

~The End~


End file.
